Chapter Six: What the Kids Were Up To

2 hours earlier

The two young Wild Mages were bored stiff as their respective first period classes wore on. Lance's class, an introductory algebra class, was being run by one of the worst math teachers in the school. Lance had already had to prove, mathematically, that on every last one of his tests for the entire school year, he'd gotten questions right that his teacher had marked wrong. Others that he'd gotten wrong had been marked as correct, forcing the teen to, in essence, grade his own tests. As such, the teen wasn't impressed with his teacher and habitually used the class time to study on his own or work on other classes. To his everlasting amusement, he'd never gotten in trouble for ignoring his teacher.

Alanna's class, Charms, was run by a more competent teacher, but Charms just happened to be Alanna's best subject. Almost every spell the class taught, she mastered before the end of the period and often much earlier. Today was their theory day, something that left her bored and doodling in her notebook because, as good as the teacher was, he lectured about theory straight out of the textbook and she'd read the textbook chapter the week before while waiting for class to be over.

So it was two rather bored teenagers who felt their magic first tingle, then flare in outrage. The pair, almost immediately on the alert, looked around, trying to figure out what had caused the magical flare. Though Wild Magic does not speak, as such, it could and did communicate that something was wrong with their family. Alanna cautiously shifted her materials close to her bag, covering her reach down to slip a small pill out of the book bag. With a tiny smirk, she brought it up to her mouth and took a bite. Seconds later, her nose started bleeding, prompting her teacher to let her out of class to go to the infirmary. Promising to send her book bag along with a fellow student, the redhead was ushered out of the class by her teacher.

Alanna smiled sweetly at her instructor, saying, "I can make it on my own…it's not that bad."

Her teacher, who looked a bit green at the blood, quickly agreed and retreated. Alanna ate the other end of the pill as she headed for her locker, stopping the nosebleed. A few quick twists of her wand at the locker and it popped open. She yanked the second bag inside out and, closing the locker, headed for a meet-up point the siblings had designated in an emergency. Only the students knew about that exit out of the school grounds and few used it because it came dangerously close to the school headmaster's office. Arriving, she glanced around and frowned. Lance wasn't here yet, but she'd bet her wand he'd gotten the same alert she had. Thoughtful, she surveyed her bag and decided.

She headed for the nearest girls bathroom and quickly changed, shoving her school robes and techie clothing inside the bag, under the bow and quiver still inside. When she came back out and arrived back at the meet-up point, Lance was waiting, his bag slung over his back as he adjusted his vambraces. Sharp sapphire eyes swept over her and he quirked a grin. "Let's go."

"How are we going to hide the armor?" Alanna asked pointedly.

Lance looked back at her, blinking a moment, before a sheepish look appeared. He dropped his wand into his left hand, quickly casting, "Muto aspectus (1)," at both his armor and hers. Their armors' appearance shifted, becoming casual, street clothes versions of themselves. The colors were the same and they looked a bit odd, but the siblings could get by without undue notice now. "Okay now?" Lance queried.

Alanna inspected her armor a moment before nodding and hurrying after her brother. They were off the school grounds and halfway to the nearest bus stop before anyone realized they were gone.


Lance ducked down the back exit of the bus, grumbling under his breath. Ordinarily, he liked cops – it came with the territory of being a 'member of the family' to an entire team of them – but right now, no, just no. Alanna, on his heels, sported a look of mulish agreement. The alarm back at their school meant that their uncle would have been called; he, in turn, wouldn't have hesitated to get their descriptions out to the street cops. The teenagers used the nearby crowd to duck right past the cops now walking through the bus, searching for them.

"Now what?" Alanna asked, looking around.

Lance scowled. To the best of his judgment, they were perhaps halfway to their missing family member. He glanced back at his sister, sighing. "We're not close enough to walk, sis, and our Animagus forms are out." She grimaced, but inclined her head in agreement. "We'll have to risk another bus; it's the only way we'll get there in time." So saying, he swung left, crossing the street as he headed for the next bus stop that would put them in the right direction. His sister followed.


They got off the second bus much closer to their destination; fortunately, there hadn't been any more close encounters with street cops. Now they moved along the sidewalk, heads high as they did their level best to look as though they belonged in this ragged, dirty, almost threadbare part of town. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have worked, the two teens would have been pounced on within minutes, but Lance also took the precaution of letting his magic out as much as he dared, a flaring of his magical aura that gave the distinct impression of someone not to be crossed. Not a single gang member, drug dealer, or streetwalker challenged the pair as they made their way to a long abandoned building surrounded by a high, iron post fence. The teens inspected the building, grimacing as they realized there was no easy way in. The front gate was wrapped with a thick, heavy chain that they dared not use magic on. Stymied at the front, they made their way around the outer perimeter of the fence, looking for a way in.

Then, at one corner, Lance stopped, inspecting the fence and the building. "Lance?" Alanna questioned.

Her brother tilted his head, studying the fence and the building beyond with a thoughtful look. "Maybe we can get over the fence here, sis."

"How?"

Lance pointed to the building. "No windows facing this way, sis, and we're out of sight from the main gate."

Violet eyes went wide at the implication. "But…our Animagus forms, won't they be detected?"

The young man arched a brow at her. "How's that, sis? We don't use our wands to transform."

A smile spread across the young girl's face and she blurred, a violet phoenix taking her place as her brother blurred into a gryphon. Both animals took flight, sweeping over the fence and landing on the other side where they blurred back into human form. The Animagus forms had negated the glamour charms on their armor, but the teens didn't care. They were close enough that if someone saw their armor, odds were it would be either their missing family member or the bad guys. Accordingly, the teens also took the time to arm themselves, Lance retrieving his sheathed sword and belting it on while Alanna slung her quiver over her head and onto her back, hooking her bow in place once it had settled. The pair trekked across the open area between them and the building, angling for the door they'd spotted at the building's rear.

As they approached the door, Lance slowed, his magic murmuring warning. "Lance?" Alanna asked again, slowing herself.

"Don't you feel it?" Lance queried. "Something's wrong."

Alanna's eyes filmed violet as she summoned her own magic. "Yeah," she agreed, "I feel it." Eyeing the door nervously, she added, "Something about the door is…wrong." Abruptly her head snapped upwards and she cried out in horror. "It's Uncle Greg!"

Lance felt his magic hum agreement, fueling his own horror – and fury. "Not again."

They traded looks. Not again…never again. Alanna clenched her fists. "I saw a door at the front…let's try there."

Scrambling for the door, they reached it…only to find that the door was thick enough, secure enough, and magic-repellant enough to keep them out. Lance hissed in frustration, stepping back and staring up the sides of the building. A gleam in his eye kept Alanna from commenting. Then he turned and raced away; she followed at his heels, confused, but trusting that her brother had an idea. When he reached the corner they'd used to get over the wall, he halted and she saw his plan. Without a word, she blurred and he followed suit. Flamewings and Illishar took flight, careful to stay away from the windows as they climbed, cruising to the roof area right next to the third floor.

Once there, the siblings approached the windows at a crouch, staying as much out of the line of sight as possible. Their magic thrummed, letting them know that no one was in the large room to see them. Careful, careful, Lance straightened and started applying pressure to the window. It took a minute or two, but the window, old, worn, and poorly maintained, gave with a quiet crack and fell inwards. Alanna offered hers and Lance's bags, the elder of the siblings placing the bags so the pair could get through the broken window without cutting themselves.

They slithered through, retrieving the bags once they were inside. Firmly in enemy territory, they communicated with hand signals they'd picked up from Team One, following their magic's whisper out of the large room and down a hallway. They stayed in cover as much as possible, leapfrogging down the corridor. Alanna did her best to ignore the graffiti, blushing whenever she spotted a particularly randy or colorful word. Voices ahead told them they were getting close; Lance slowed down more, tossing a warning look at Alanna when she tried to speed up.

Ahead of them, Lance spotted an open door, scowling as raised voices came from beyond the doorway. He waved Alanna back, not willing to risk his fiery sister charging into more trouble than they could handle, and crept up to the door, peeking around the frame as cautiously as he could. He stiffened; his uncle was bound to a table leg, Haley and two unknown men were standing in front of him, and Haley wasn't trying to help his uncle. He wanted to rush in, get his uncle out, but he reined the impulse in. Instead, he backed away, glancing up. Alanna gave him a glare, backing it up with insistent hand signals. The boy set his jaw, shaking his head at her and signaling what he'd seen from the doorway. He did gesture to the ceiling, signaling his idea. Alanna cocked her head, studying the ceiling herself; she pursed her lips, tilting her head back the other way, and finally signaled a 'yes' at Lance.

Lance shifted, staying well away from the door, and lifted both hands, palms up. Golden light streamed from his palms, striking the ceiling. In seconds, the light crafted a small ledge for the pair to hide on. They did have to move into view of the doorway to get up onto the ledge, and the ledge itself could be seen if someone looked up, but in short order they'd slithered up on the ledge and positioned themselves to watch the unfolding drama.

Just as they finished getting into place, Haley cried, "Greg, please tell me that you didn't…"

One of the men, the shorter one in a knit cap, immediately added, "Yeah, who was it, Greg?" He stalked up to their uncle, screaming, "What happened that night?!"

Lance gave a soft hiss; his uncle's flinch, invisible to his captors and Haley, was clear to the young Wild Mage. Alanna's own soft noise was distressed, she liked Haley; though Lance did too, he wasn't impressed with which side the older girl appeared to be on. Their uncle didn't respond, making the boy bite his lip nervously.

Haley didn't wait for a response; she sounded as if she was crying as she demanded, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Their uncle sighed, but didn't get a chance to respond as Knit Cap broke in, sounding both scornful and victorious. "Because it's the truth. The truth is, he never cared about you."

Haley's rejoinder made Lance prick his ears and forgive her, at least a little. "No, Greg did care. He saved me. He kept me together."

And now, now, their uncle joined the conversation, looking straight at Haley as he interjected, "You know the answer to that. I didn't keep you together, you kept me together."

Two puzzled looks were exchanged, accompanied in the background by Knit Cap's confused, disdainful, "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you, me and Haley, we're not so different, okay?" What? "I know what it's like to want to hide. I know what it's like to make yourself feel numb. And the night that I found Haley under that bed, I was a mess." Horrified looks flicked between the siblings. "I mean, the stuff you see every day as a cop, on the job, makes you want to make some bad choices. And mine was the bottle." Alanna covered her mouth to stifle her whimper. "That night, after everything, I hit that bottle harder than I ever had before. And when I woke up, my family was gone. My wife was gone. She took my son; he was six years old. I haven't seen them since."

Lance's expression had gone still, his emotions locked away as he watched. Knit Cap leaned to the side, his anger and scorn ringing in each word. "So? Is that her fault? Is that what you're saying?"

"No," their uncle countered. "No, that's my fault. That's my fault." For a moment, silence hung; the siblings waiting for the next part, the story they'd never heard before. "Well, I took a leave from the job. Holed up at home, case of vodka and a promise: either I finish these bottles or they finish me." Lance's eyes glittered with helpless fury at the admission. "And then I got this letter, out of nowhere, in kid's handwriting." Their uncle looked up at Haley, her shoulders shaking as she cried. " 'Hi, Detective Parker. It's me, Haley. And I wanted to say thank you for helping me.' And she was scared, but she was gonna be brave. An eight-year-old girl." For that alone, Lance would forgive Haley for her actions here today, for saving his uncle…from himself. "Took me three days to sober up. And then, that's when I wrote you back. Everything I ever did for you, you did for me. Okay?" He paused, his eyes turning intense. "If you hadn't reached out, Haley, if our relationship had begun and ended that night, I never would have met Lance and Alanna…I wouldn't have lived that long."

Haley's cry cut him off, a high, almost despairing sound. "No, no, you would have made it, Greg; tell me you would have. You wouldn't have left them alone."

"Who?" Knit Cap demanded. Turning on Haley, he barked, "Who is he talking about?"

She flinched from his fury, drawing an attempt from Uncle Greg to get loose, a futile effort. But Haley stood her ground, looking past Knit Cap. "You love them," she cried, "You wouldn't have left them."

Uncle Greg shook his head as he spoke. "Haley, I didn't know about them back then."

Knit Cap didn't take kindly to being ignored; he roared, "Who are they?" in Haley's face. She cowered from him like a frightened animal; Uncle Greg fought to get loose, though his face twisted in pain from the shouting.

"Haley," Uncle Greg called, low, intense. "What happened after that night, what you've become, what I've seen you turn into, Haley, that's, that's what matters. You're strong, Haley, stronger than you know. Could you tell them? If anything," his eyes darted to Knit Cap, "happens, tell them I love them."

"I will," she promised, then her shoulders shook. "So, that night, that's the only reason you cared for me…helped me? You only helped me because of what you did to my Mom?"

Lance covered Alanna's mouth before she could make a noise of outrage; though he was just as angry, they could not be found. Not after Knit Cap's display of temper. Please, Aslan. Keep us safe…all of us.


[1] Latin for 'To change appearance'